Chapter 118: Fractures in the Circle

The argument didn’t wait until morning. It detonated right there in the war room, the echoes of the ring still buzzing through my skull like static.

Aidan stood stiff as stone, his jaw locked, his eyes on Ethan like he was a target. “You’re not experimenting on her again. Not while I’m here. Not while she’s mine to protect.”

Ethan bristled, pushing his glasses up with a sharp jab of his finger. “She’s not yours. She’s not mine. She’s not anyone’s to ‘protect’ like she’s some fragile artifact. She’s the key, Aidan. The only chance we have of understanding Selene before she guts us all in our sleep. If we stop now, we walk blind into whatever she’s planning.”

“Blind is safer than cursed!” Aidan roared.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Ethan snapped back, rising from his chair. “You think holding her in a cage of your fear is safer than letting her figure out what she is? Newsflash: ignorance is what Selene wants. She’s already inside Roxanne’s head, and you want to just… what? Pretend it’s not happening?”

“Don’t twist this,” Aidan growled, stepping forward. His shadow stretched across the table. “I’m not afraid of her power. I’m afraid of losing her. And maybe that doesn’t matter to you, Ethan, because you’re too busy hiding behind your screens and theories, but for me—”

“For you it’s personal,” Ethan cut in, his voice like ice. “We get it. You love her. You’d burn the world down before you let anything touch her. Noble. Romantic. Completely useless when the entire point of this fight is bigger than your heart.”

The words sliced through the room.

I stood frozen, my chest tight, watching them circle each other like predators. Elena muttered, “Oh, here we go. Testosterone Olympics.”

But no one laughed. Not even her.

“Stop it,” I said finally. My voice cracked, but neither of them turned to me. They were too far gone.

Aidan shoved his finger into Ethan’s chest. “Say that again.”

Ethan didn’t flinch. “I said your feelings don’t matter in a war.”

That was enough. Aidan lunged.

Chairs scraped as Elena bolted up, blocking his path. “Whoa! Hey! Time out! This isn’t a cage match!” She pressed a hand against Aidan’s chest and another against Ethan’s shoulder. “Do I need to dunk both of you in a bucket of cold water? Because I will.”

“Get out of the way, Elena,” Aidan snapped, his fangs flashing at the edges of his teeth.

“Not a chance, big guy.” She shoved him back a step. “You think throwing Ethan through a wall is going to fix anything? Guess what: it won’t. It’ll just give me more paperwork and a headache.”

Ethan tugged at his shirt where Elena had gripped it, glaring at Aidan. “This isn’t about me. This is about her.” He pointed at me. His voice softened, but his eyes stayed sharp. “Roxanne. You’re the one who decides. Not him. Not me. You.”

Everyone’s attention swung to me like a spotlight.

My throat went dry.

I glanced at Aidan. His eyes were wild, desperate, pleading with me to choose him, to choose safety. Then at Ethan, whose gaze burned with something sharper: belief. That I could handle this. That I had to.

Echo spoke for the first time in ten minutes, her voice flat but cutting. “If she does nothing, Selene wins. If she does too much, Selene also wins. The real question is—can Roxanne walk the line without falling?”

Mara, curled on her chair like a cat, hummed. “I say let her try. She’s already halfway in whether we like it or not. Pretending otherwise is just denial.”

Rhea, quiet until now, clutched the journal tighter. “But the Harbingers before her—some of them didn’t come back. The journal says they carried the burden until it broke them. Do we want to risk Roxanne ending up the same?”

“Risk?” Ethan barked. “Every breath we take is a risk! Selene isn’t waiting politely for us to make up our minds. She’s moving now. We don’t have the luxury of indecision.”

“And we don’t have the luxury of losing her,” Aidan fired back.

Their voices collided again, the room shrinking with the force of it.

Finally, I slammed my hands on the table. The crack echoed. “Enough!”

Silence dropped like a stone.

I stood slowly, my palms pressed flat against the wood, my chest rising and falling hard. “You’re both right. And you’re both wrong. Aidan—yes, I’m scared. I don’t want to end up Selene’s puppet. But Ethan’s right too. If I don’t understand this, if I don’t face it, I’m already halfway there.”

Aidan shook his head, his jaw clenched so hard I thought it might snap. “Rox…”

“I’m not choosing fear,” I said, softer now. “I can’t. Not anymore. I’ve been afraid since the lab. Since Gregory. Since I realized I wasn’t just me. But if I let that fear keep me from trying, then what’s the point of surviving at all?”

The words sat heavy in the room.

For once, Elena didn’t joke. She just exhaled. “Well. That settles it, I guess.”

“No,” Aidan muttered, his voice breaking. He ran a hand over his face, pacing the edge of the table like a caged wolf. “You don’t know what you’re asking. You don’t know what it’ll do to you.”

“Then help me,” I whispered.

He froze.

I stepped closer. “If I’m going to do this, I need you. All of you. Not just to protect me. To keep me me. To hold me here when the voices try to drag me under.”

His eyes softened, just for a heartbeat.

Then he pulled me against him, his arms tight, his chest shaking against mine. “You’re going to drive me insane, Roxanne.”

“Too late,” I whispered back, my throat tight.

Ethan cleared his throat loudly. “As touching as this is, we still need rules. Boundaries. Controls. If we move forward, it’s with structure. Agreed?”

Elena raised her hand. “Agreed, as long as I don’t have to write the safety manual.”

Mara stretched like a cat. “Agreed, as long as I get to watch him squirm when she proves stronger than his charts.”

Rhea said nothing. She just nodded, her eyes on me, solemn and worried.

Finally, Aidan let me go. His voice was rough when he spoke. “If we do this, I stay by her side. No one touches her. No one pushes her. And the second I see her slipping, I end it.”

Ethan frowned. “Define ‘end it.’”

“Don’t push me,” Aidan growled.

Echo’s voice cut through the tension. “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow night. We test again. And this time, we don’t blink.”

\---

The lamps flickered just then, as if agreeing.

And in the back of my mind, like a breath against my ear, the whisper returned:

Yes, little Harbinger. Tomorrow night.